A Minor Incident
by EvilEatingSanta
Summary: Max/Jude. Starts when Max and Jude arrive in New York City and continues until the end of the film, possibly continuing even further...we shall see. Collaboration with Neonnchrome1123. Rated for swearing and future sexual content. WARNING: FLUFF ABOUNDS.
1. Shagging Sadie

**AN:** This is written in collaboration with neonnchrome1123, because we are both in love with _Across the Universe_ and, more specifically, Max and Jude. If you are looking for an angst riddled, accurate depiction of tortured minds and war and blood and death, please look elsewhere. You will not find that here, no sir.

We are fans of fluff. Perhaps too much...?? I am under the impression that there can never be enough fluff.

Later on we'll get into heavier shit as Max gets closer and closer to being shipped off to war, but until then, we are quite content to swim in our pool of rainbows, sunshine and gay boys. Thank you very much. :-)

**Disclaimer:**_ Across the Universe_ and its characters do not belong to us.

* * *

_Max's POV_

"So how about it?"

I glance towards Jude, his face close to mine as we lean shoulder to shoulder out the window. Our tired eyes soak in the new sights of New York City, our empty stomachs growling in protest. We drove through the night to get here, but here we are.

"I dunno. It could be risky. I mean, she _is_ our landlady…" I mumble through a barely contained smile. Jude notices me warming up to the idea and jumps at it.

"Where's your sense of adventure, mate?" he laughs, tipping his head to one side in order to get a better look at me, "What've we got to lose?"

"A month's worth of rent," I say, and Jude flinches.

"How about this, then. If she throws us out, I'll make up the difference. And besides," he adds, that smile growing on his face again, "if you win and we stay, I pay two months rent."

"And if you win…"

"Then you pay two months. It is a bit unfair though, yeah? The odds _are_ tipped in your favor."

I squint my eyes at him, once again trying, and failing, to read my best friend's intentions.

"Okay, bet's on," I grin, shaking his hand, "no backing out now. I'm afraid my charm, intellect and wit have already won me this one, Judith."

"Don't forget those dashingly good looks of yours," he adds, laughing and pushing himself away from the windowsill.

"How could I? Nobody else can," I retort, turning around to face Jude as I lean up against the windowsill.

The sounds of New York filter in through the open window, cars honking, voices yelling. The stifling air enters my nostrils and surrounds me, pressing in on all sides. I lean heavily against the windowsill, my eyelids growing heavier as the moments tick by.

"Here Max," Jude says, and I jump at the sound of his voice, "I found some blankets in the other room. I tried to get a pillow out from under the bloke who's sleepin' on the couch, but he wouldn't have it…"

"'m not tired," I protest, stretching my arms into the air.

"Come off it. You're practically asleep on your feet as it is," he says, ignoring me as he tosses the blankets onto the bed we'll have to fight over. Or share. Jude climbs into bed and motions to me, "now c'mere," he yawns, kicking off his shoes and stretching his thin body across the mattress, his height making the bed look too short.

"I thought this bet was about Sadie," I notice, smirking as I fall into bed next to Jude.

"Don't be weird," he chuckles, "the bet is still on. Whoever shags Sadie first…" he pauses to yawn, "gets a free ride for two months."

"May the best man win."

* * *

_Jude's POV_

Throwing my arms over my head, I attempt to block out the harsh noise floating into our bedroom from the kitchen. I roll over and groan, immediately noticing that Max no longer lies beside me. Slowly I sit up. Wiping at my eyes, I see that the bathroom door is closed and yawn as I consider walking into the kitchen. I smile. This is my chance to catch Sadie when Max isn't around.

I drag my feet into the other room, and spot Sadie pulling a bowl out of the cupboard and filling it with some sort of porridge-type substance she has just heated up. I don't even consider asking her what that is; I don't particularly think I want to know. Instead I shuffle over beside her and pry the refrigerator open.

"Mornin'," I mumble, grabbing a carton of milk. She brushes a piece of hair out of her face.

"That milk is old, but there are a few more bowls in the cupboard and I think some cereal is left under the sink. Spoons are a little iffy; I'd say you should rinse one off before you eat with it," she rambles, leaving me wide-eyed. Glancing down carefully, my eyes find the edge of her robe, slightly opening to reveal the curve of her breast. Looking away quickly before she realizes I'm staring, I feign an itch on my eyelid and turn away to fight temptation.

"I think I'll just…" I start when she lays a hand on my shoulder.

"I hope you two slept well last night. I forgot I was going to come in and give you another blanket. Fuckin' cold, man. Fuck this town sometimes. I love it too much to leave, but on nights like that I just want to pack up and go," she says, fixing her robe to cover herself completely then heading over to the table. Setting my milk carton down on the counter, I cross my arms and press them against my chest.

"I quite like it 'ere," Sadie smiles in response, and her robe falls open again, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"You've only been here a night, darlin'. Just you wait and see. You'll love it, sure, but you'll hate it at the same time. All these artists come here to make it and shit and all they do is get sucked up by the city and the drugs and the people. Not like I'm one to talk." I listen intently, admiring the smooth sound of her voice. I can tell she's a singer. She's not as young as the rest of her roommates but she fits. She doesn't need to be young.

With a body like that, she could be eighty and she would still fit.

"Hun? You okay?" Sadie asks, her head cocked to the side. I blink a few times, and realize that I hadn't been paying attention.

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Tired, I guess," I chuckle. "Hey, eh, Sadie, d'you think…" I begin, only to be stopped once again. Sadie stands up from her chair, tossing her bowl in the sink.

"I gotta go, man. We need a new guitarist. Most of the people I've seen are shit, but we gotta find someone eventually, right?" she walks quickly into her room just as Max is exiting ours in a loosely fitting robe.

"Hey, man," he says, and I give him a small nod.

Sadie rushes from her room, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Max raises an eyebrow, looking between the two of us.

"I'll see you guys, later," she says before exiting, and I offer a wave. Turning back toward the fridge, I lightly pound my fist against the side of the door.

"So," Max starts, sidling up next to me. "That looks like it went well," he smirks. I roll my eyes, reaching around him to retrieve my milk carton. With my free hand, I pull at the sash of his robe, untying it and letting the front fall open. His eyes widen in shock as he scrambles to knot it again.

"It went fine," I say, throwing myself gently onto the couch.

* * *

_Max's POV_

I sit alone on the couch, perusing the New York Times after a fitful night's sleep. I didn't have trouble sleeping, but Jude must have because he nearly kicked me onto the floor at least three different times…

"That paper is a week old, you know," Sadie's raspy voice says, and I look up to find her standing in the doorway to her room.

"Yeah," I reply, putting it aside, "I, uh…I noticed."

I hadn't.

"You been to sleep yet, or…?" she asks, moving out of her doorway to the kitchen. I stand up to follow her.

"Woke up after five hours," I say, holding up five fingers, "but sleep is for the weak, right?" I give Sadie my best smile when she looks over her shoulder at me.

"I dunno, man," she replies, "I wouldn't be up this early if I didn't have to be."

Strike one.

"No rest for the weary, huh?" I chuckle nervously, leaning against the counter where Sadie is making coffee. She makes a noncommittal noise and ignores me. I choose to get rid of the throwaway comments and instead attempt a normal conversation. "Everyone says New York is a mean city, but it hasn't been so bad yet. I mean, everyone here is cool."

"This city goes through more people than the war," Sadie mumbles, glancing over at me, "chews you up and spits you out, man."

"Well, so far so good," I contradict, blowing a piece of hair out of my face, "for me, at least."

"So you and Jude," she says suddenly, making me raise my eyebrows, "how'd you meet?"

"I ran into him at Princeton," I explain, seeing her eyebrows shoot up when I mention my old school, "he was looking for his dad, I guess."

"How long ago was that? A year or two now?" she continues, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"No, no," I laugh, "last week."

"No…" she trails, disbelief etched in her face, "are you kidding?"

"Never," I swear, "not me."

Sadie blows on her coffee to cool it, a contemplative look entering her eyes as she stares at me from across the room. She regards me carefully, a smile growing on her lips.

"So you're the one I have to keep my eye on, huh?" she asks, and I smile, batting my eyelashes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about…" I joke, and she laughs.

"Uh huh," she deadpans, and I turn to root around in the cupboards.

"Nah, man," I continue, pulling out a box of granola, "I like you, Sadie. I mean, I like this place."

"Well, you're welcome to stay," she says, refilling her cup of coffee, "as long as I get my payments on time."

"Tough love," I chuckle, grabbing a handful of granola, "you're breakin' my heart, man."

Sadie smiles and shoots me a look before moving to leave the room.

"Trust me, you'll figure this out soon enough," she promises, and my eyes follow her as she stands by the doorway, "I've gotta go get some things done, so make yourself at home. I'll be back in a few hours."

"Alright," I mumble, shoving some of the granola into my mouth as Sadie's curvy body exits the room.

I set the box of granola on the counter once I hear the door to the stairwell shut, announcing that Sadie has left. I wonder what needs to be done at six in the morning.

Yawning, I make my way back to the bedroom. That didn't go as well as I had hoped. I smile when I imagine how Jude's attempt must have played out. Sadie's pretty intimidating... I don't think either of us realized how much of a challenge we're in for.

Oh well. I'm always up for a challenge.

"Jude," I say once I'm in our bedroom, pushing the beads out of my face, "Jude, man, c'mon. Wake up."

I wait to see if the other man listens to me, and when his only response is to pull the blankets up over his face I make my way to the edge of the bed.

"Mornin' sleepy head," I say in a slight southern drawl, running my finger up his arm, "you up for a little fun?"

Jude is barely able to register what's going on before I jump into bed on top of him, hearing the breath escape him as I land on his lower stomach, my hands pinning his arms down. Jude's eyes open wide for a moment, his chest rising and falling quickly before he glares at me and attempts to pull his arms free.

"Not yet, honey," I continue, my impression of Sadie breaking for a moment as I chuckle quietly.

"Max? Wha…what the hell are you doin'?" he asks, his brown eyes going wide again as I lean down over him, his uneven breath bouncing off of my lips that are twisted up into a smirk.

"Max? I'm Sadie," I reply, leaning closer and closer, "This is me. Out of bounds."

Suddenly Jude pushes up into me, breaking my hold on him as he flips me over onto my back, his lanky body covering mine as he smiles down at me.

"Well then, uh, Sadie," he mumbles, pressing his hips into mine to hold me down, "what exactly did you have in mind?"

I laugh and press at Jude's shoulders, signaling that this game has ended. Jude doesn't move.

"C'mon Jude," I say, still smiling, "get off of me."

"No," he states, moving his knees so that he's straddling my lap, "no, I don't think so. You aren't gettin' off that easily, mate."

"Wha…?" I start to ask but am cut off when Jude's fingers jab into my side, causing me to make a strangled noise in the back of my throat, "Oh, don't you even think…"

Jude grins before he starts tickling me, his fingers dancing over my sides and ribs. I squirm underneath him, laughing breathlessly in between my pleas for mercy.

"Jude, shit man!" I yell, pushing at his arms, trying vainly to escape, "Fuckin'…_hate_ you... Stop!"

Jude laughs as he sits back in my lap, his eyes shining as he watches me try to catch my breath.

"I think I've learned something useful today," he says, reaching forward to play with the bottom of my t-shirt, "Max Carrigan is really bloody ticklish."

"Yeah, well Jude _Feeney_ is really fuckin' dead," I snarl, trying to push the other man off of me. Jude stays put, however, his hands moving to grip the sides of my waist.

"Sorry mate," he apologizes, a smile on his lips, "you'll just have to forgive me."

I sigh and give up, letting my hands drift over to where Jude's thighs are straddling my hips. I place one hand on each thigh, my heart still pounding quickly in my chest.

"Will you get off of me now?" I ask, looking up to see Jude staring raptly at me. I hold his gaze, finding myself wondering, not for the first time, what exactly is going on in that head of his.

Jude doesn't answer me but instead moves his right hand up from my waist to cup the side of my face, his thumb running along my cheek. I swallow thickly, my heart pounding in my throat as Jude's hand continues down to grip the side of my neck, his fingers shaking slightly.

I reach up to grab the hair at the nape of Jude's neck, feeling the soft locks between my fingers as I pull him down towards me, our eyes still locked. Jude's lips hover above mine, and just before I give one final tug to complete the action I hear the Brit's smooth voice.

"Will you behave?" he asks, his voice strangled.

"…what?" I say, blinking as I realize what almost happened.

"If I let you up," he clarifies, "will you be good?"

I manage to nod, even though I don't want to, and watch as Jude clambers off of me, his shoulders tense as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. I push myself up onto my elbows and regard Jude curiously.

Forget Sadie. I think I've just discovered something a hell of a lot more interesting…

* * *

_Jude's POV_

Dipping my arms under the faucet in the bathroom, I try to scrub away the long, dark charcoal stains. I don't even want to look up into the mirror; I haven't showered in a few days. I've been too busy working on trying to get a job. Which has ended up being time spent drawing, sleeping and eating.

I'm not too upset about it.

After drying off my arms with a questionable towel hanging over the shower, I decide that I don't want to sleep or eat, so I might as well draw. So much for getting my arms clean.

I walk through the kitchen and into the room I have set up as an art studio of sorts, reaching over the table to grab a pencil. Unfortunately, the moonlight isn't enough to draw by, so I flip on the old lamp next to me. Before I can start to draw, I hear Sadie mumbling something in the other room. Leaning over on my stool, I catch sight of her, face flushed and that bloody robe wide open.

"This goddamn apartment always smells like shit…if it weren't so damn cold I'd open a window. Fuckin' hell, man," she mutters to herself, I assume; if there is someone else in the room I can't see them.

I balance myself out on the stool again and pick up my pencil, pressing it lightly to the paper in front of me. My hand stays still, but my mind runs through sweet-smelling things.

Flowers. Flowers would smell nice in the apartment.

A smile spreads across my lips and I throw my pencil onto the table. I'll wake up early in the morning, buy some flowers, and set them out before Sadie wakes up.

The next morning I go out at eight, too fucking early in my opinion, and buy some tulips from a guy who I now assume is homeless. They smell nice, anyway. When I get back to the apartment I remember that I have nothing to put them in, so I settle for a glass I find in the cupboard. As I fill it with water, a shirtless Max pops his head out of our room and we share a second of silence before he returns to bed. I smile. He wishes he'd thought of this.

Jumping back into bed with Max, I cross my arms behind my head and try to drift back asleep for at least an hour or two more. I can hear Max scoff at me before I close my eyes.

Max wakes me by slamming the bathroom door, causing me to jerk violently and knock my elbow against the headboard.

"Fuck!" I hiss, rubbing at my injury and wincing in pain. Why the hell does Max always need the bathroom immediately after he wakes up? Sometimes I wonder if Mrs. Carrigan knows she has three daughters…

Remembering the flowers I set out the night before, I hurry excitedly to the kitchen, only to find Sadie sniffing them. Proudly, I smirk as she lifts one closer to her nose and glances over toward me.

"Someone brought flowers," she comments, sleep still evident in her eyes.

"Yeah, guess they did." I slip my shirt on groggily, seating myself at the kitchen table. Pressing my elbows to the wooden surface, I watch carefully as she places the tulip back in the murky water.

"Don't tulips smell _horrible_?" she asks, and my breath catches in my throat.

"Eh, I…I don't mind 'em." I try to recover, as if I'm going to convince her to adjust to the smell.

"Never been a fan," she concludes, before placing a hand on her hip and facing me. "Have you seen my robe? I just had it last night."

Have I seen it? That's a ridiculous question…

"No, sorry," I say, faking a smile. She shrugs in defeat and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door loudly in frustration. I guess she likes that robe as much as I do.

Glancing over at the flowers, they suddenly look much worse than they did last night. I sigh.

"Shit," I whisper to myself before hearing the sound of beads and seeing Max making his way through our make-shift door. He struts out with an arrogant grin, sporting Sadie's robe tied so loosely around his waist that I'm grateful he decided to put underwear on this morning. Well, grateful might not be the right word…

"Flowers, Judey? You shouldn't have!" Max screeches in false delight, skipping over to me and promptly seating himself on my lap. I scowl until he squeezes his thighs together against mine. "I didn't know you were a tulip man," he whispers into my ear, his arms thrown around my neck. I give in, resting my hands on his hips and dragging him closer to my body.

"I guess I am, yeah," I breathe, digging my fingers into his…er…Sadie's robe. As usual, the robe falls open at the chest, and I lean my head down cautiously, pressing a light kiss to Max's collarbone. I can feel his fingers play with the hair at the back of my neck, and I moan quietly when he uses it to pull my tongue from his chest.

"Fuck," I mumble before he hotly pushes our mouths together, his fingers still dug deeply into my neck. Thrusting my hips upward, I run my tongue over Max's slowly. I begin to drag my hands up his robe, drifting underneath the fabric to feel his warm skin.

Max scrambles to untie the garment from around his waist without breaking the kiss, and eventually frees himself with a sigh. My hands roam his upper body until I decide I need more. I grab his thighs ruthlessly, forcing him toward me. We're both too…_excited_ for a move like that, and our mouths split apart in a shared moan and breathless laughter.

I kiss him again softly, pulling away after a second to cup his cheek in my hand.

"I hope you don't think this changes anything," he says, unbuttoning my shirt with his shaking fingers. "I still intend on living here rent-free for two months."

"Well, I don't know about _that_," I start, reaching down to help him, "but the Sadie bet is still on." I grip the back of his neck to meet his lips again before he can respond.

That fucking robe.

* * *

We'll have more up soon! And in the great words of Sir Thomas More:

_"...Besides, some readers are so ungrateful that, even if they enjoy a book immensely, they don't feel any affection for the author. They're like rude guests who after a splendid dinner-party go home stuffed with food, without saying a word of thanks to their host..."_

In short, please **R&R**. Thanks!


	2. I'm Crazy, I Know

**AN: **Here is the second chapter. Enjoy! Again, this story is a collaboration with neonnchrome1123. :-)

**Disclaimer:** _Across the Universe_ doesn't belong to us!

* * *

_Max's POV  
_

I dodge my way in and out of the busy New Yorkers, my steps light as I make my way home after a day of looking for jobs. I'm not sure if I secured myself a job, but I am positive I've procured myself something to do tonight.

The plastic baggie stuffed full of weed sits comfortably in my pocket, pressing against my thigh. I am definitely looking forward to smoking this with Jude.

The quickly setting sun shines in my eyes, making me squint as I duck into Café Huh?, having heard a lot about the place from Sadie. It takes a short amount of time for my eyes to adjust, and when they do I'm surprised to find none other than Sadie herself seated at a table in the middle of the small bar.

"Well if it isn't the lovely Sadie," I comment, shoving my hands into my pockets as I sidle over to where she's seated, "how are you?"

"Hi, Max," she replies, barely sparing a glance my way, "what brings you here?"

"I need a job, man," I sigh, tossing myself into the chair next to her, "almost outta money."

"Play guitar?" she asks, though I can tell she's joking. She's been holding auditions for the past couple of weeks, but hasn't found anybody yet.

"As a matter of fact, I do," I reply, mocking sincerity. Sadie gives me a look, trying to gauge whether I'm joking or not.

"I'm all ears," she says, smiling pleasantly as she motions towards the small stage where the rest of her band had been taking a break.

I smile back before pushing myself away from the table, intent on making an ass of myself. I hop up onto the stage, nodding and smiling at the other members of the band as I grab the nearest guitar and sling the strap over my shoulders.

"Alright, guys," Sadie says, an amused tone in her voice, "Max, you ready?"

"Always," I grin, positioning my fingers to play a C chord, one of the only chords I remember from when I played the guitar in middle school.

The band strikes up a beat, and I wait a moment before I join in, immediately laughing at my own expense. Oh God… I've got to admit, I'm pretty fucking embarrassing.

The band dissolves into fits of laughter soon enough and I glance out to see Sadie pressing a hand to her forehead, an easy smile on her face as she laughs. I set the guitar down and take a bow, the band cheering for me as I make my way back to Sadie.

"Hey Sadie!" the drummer exclaims, doubled over in laughter, "Boy's the best we've heard so far. What do you say we sign 'im?" he asks, making everyone else grumble under their breath.

"I'm pretty good, huh?" I question, watching Sadie's face for a reaction.

"You're definitely something," she muses, shaking her head, "thanks Max, but I think I'll have to pass."

"Hey, no worries. I understand," I say, shaking Sadie's hand, "You'll be home later tonight?"

"Yeah, we were just finishing, actually," she replies, eyeing the bulge in my pocket, "Why, what are you planning?"

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. See you later, Sadie."

Sadie focuses her attention back to the band as I leave to scout out the manager. My career as a guitarist shot down, I figure a waiter or bar tender is probably the next best option.

I clamber my way up the stairs, my excitement barely contained as I finish making mental plans for the night to come. All I know is that there will be a lot of weed, alcohol and Jude involved.

I burst into the loft, the darkness making me blind as I feel around for the light switch. I kick off my shoes and head for our bedroom, smiling when I see the light on.

"You almost done there?" I yawn, eyeing the bed.

Jude stops drawing and lays his ink pen down, scratching at the back of his head as he regards me curiously.

"Yeah I am, yeah," he says quickly, smiling up at me from his seat near the window, "What's up?"

I slowly tease the bag of weed out of my pocket, watching as Jude's eyes light up. I toss him the baggie before falling into bed, hearing him laugh incredulously.

"I thought we didn't even have money for rent! How did you get this?" he asks, moving to join me.

"Always money for pot, Jude," I explain, sliding over to make room for him. Jude sits near my stomach, his concentration quickly lost on me as he inspects the goods. "Also," I continue, stretching my arms over my head, "I told Sadie we'd meet up with her at the Gaslight later. You up for it?"

"Sounds good," he smirks, jabbing me in the stomach where my shirt is riding up, "so, uh," he says, standing back up, "how went the job hunt?"

"I dunno," I mumble, throwing an arm over my eyes, "couple of places seemed promising. How 'bout you?"

"It went okay," he says, expertly rolling two joints.

"Meaning you haven't left yet," I interpret, accepting one of the joints and sitting up, crossing my legs Indian style. Jude follows suit, digging around in his pockets for a lighter.

"Here," he says, tossing me the lighter once he's finished with it. I light up and try to shake the tired feeling that's making my brain seem foggy. "No, you know…" Jude says, staring at the smoke curling up from in between his fingers, "I was talking to Georgey and, uh," he pauses, glancing up at me, "he says that I could sell some of my work."

"Who is that again?" I ask, trying to remember which of our roommates Jude is talking about.

"The bloke with the…" he trails, motioning towards his chin with his fingers, stroking downward, "beard and…"

"Ah, right," I remember, nodding my head, "Well, if you wanna try, man, don't say I held ya back. Just remember you've got two months' rent to pay coming up. And any other expenses you may want to indulge in, from time to time," I grin, and make a show of taking a drag off of my joint.

Jude chuckles and then falls quiet, the sickly sweet smell of weed slowly taking over the room. I look around me at the walls, where Jude's random drawings and paintings are splattered across the previous white paint. Georgey is probably right; Jude could totally find someone to buy these. He's pretty good, though his art streak seemingly came out of nowhere.

I glance over at Jude when I feel his eyes on me and shift so that I can lean against the wall.

"…what?" I ask, making Jude smirk as he sets his joint in the ashtray, the smoke curling towards the ceiling. I watch, my lips quirking up into a smile as the other man unfolds himself from where he's seated across the bed and crawls a couple feet towards me. My hand immediately grips the back of his neck, my fingers twisting around soft hair as he covers my mouth with his.

Jude's lips move softly over mine as I lean heavily into the wall, feeling his hand cup the side of my face.

"Mm, what was that for?" I ask when he pulls back slightly, his thumb running down my cheek.

"Nothin', really," he murmurs, a smile lighting his face, "this place was quiet without you here. I've done nothin' all day."

I squint my eyes at him, making sure to keep my joint at a safe distance from us as I grab a handful of the front of his t-shirt, forcing him a few inches closer.

"Bored?" I ask, grinning wickedly when I see his eyes light up.

Jude presses another kiss to my lips and I push back hard against him. He smiles against my mouth, his hands moving to my waist as he forces me up against him.

"This way," I say, breathless, my foot touching the floor as I pull away from Jude, who's left sitting on the bed. I take a drag off of my joint which has, miraculously, survived the assault. "C'mon, man," I laugh, hiding the bag of weed in a drawer, away from my other roommates, "we're meeting up with Sadie. Remember?"

"You've only been home for half an hour!" he protests, flopping onto his back and staring at the ceiling, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

"Jude, come on, man," I say sternly, kicking at his feet, "if you hadn't noticed, it's dinner time. And we're blowing the rest of my money on two things and two things only; food and alcohol. So cut the whining and get moving."

Jude pushes himself up onto his elbows and regards me coolly before giving in, an easy smile on his face as we make our way towards the nearest diner.

"Last call, guys," Sadie slurs, making her way towards the bathroom.

I take a drag off of my cigarette and look around at the liquored up group of people crowding the bar. Jude sits next to me and steals sips of my tequila slammer when he thinks I'm not paying attention.

I grab Jude's hand when I notice it slipping across the table towards my drink and lock eyes with my best friend. We share a smile as I let him pull his hand back to himself.

Jude leans back in his chair and I follow suit, cradling my drink. I take a sip, the alcohol getting caught in my throat when I feel Jude's hand on the back of my neck, his thumb rubbing underneath my jaw.

I press my chin to my chest, Jude's warm fingers moving to play idly with the hair at the nape of my neck.

"Thanks very much," he says suddenly, and my eyes snap open when I feel my drink sliding from my grasp. Jude nods his head and raises the glass at me in a toast, a smug smile on his face, before downing the rest of my tequila in one gulp.

"Oh, what the hell, man?" I groan, grabbing vainly at my now empty glass, "that was a dirty trick."

"Teach you to keep a better hold on your alcohol," he chuckles, and then holds his hands up in defeat, "but it won't happen again. At least not from me." He gives me a pointed look through his shaggy hair that's almost constantly mussed up, his dark eyes gleaming.

"Not good enough," I protest, standing up and managing to sway only a little bit, "come on. You're buying me another drink," I grumble, grabbing Jude's wrist and forcing him to follow me.

"Another? Haven't you had enough?" he asks, though he gets up from where he's sitting, a smile on his face.

"Just one more," I promise, letting go of his wrist as we make our way to the bar.

"Oh one more, yeah?" he laughs, bumping shoulders with me as he comes up alongside me, "and, uh… just _how_ many one mores is this?" I shoot him a glare.

"That last one doesn't count," I rationalize, leaning against the bar and trying to get the bartender's attention.

"Eh…excuse me?" Jude calls, pressing himself in next to me. His accent immediately has the female bartender's attention, and his smile draws her to us, "could I 'ave a …" he looks to me.

"A tequila slammer," I shout over the noise, and Jude looks back to the bartender.

"Please," he adds, and she nods, a smile on her lips.

"Obviously God sent you to me for this very reason," I grin, turning to look at the other man.

"Oh, is that why?" he asks, reaching out to slip his hands into the front pockets on my jeans, dragging me to him. He presses our hips together and slides his hands back out of my pockets to hook around the small of my back, a content smile on his face.

"Tequila slammer?" the bartender asks, sliding the drink towards us. Jude's face flushes as he looks back to the girl, muttering thanks as he hands me the glass.

I don't take it immediately as my attention is focused on the couple a few people down from us. A girl is stretched out on the bar, her boyfriend bent over her stomach as he takes a body shot off of her.

"Jude," I say, grinning, "I have an idea."

"Max, I'm pretty sure Sadie said they're closing soon…" he trails, fishing in his pocket for some money to pay the bartender.

"Could I get another shot of tequila?" I ask the bartender, leaning back over the bar.

"Sure," she says, "that'll run you five dollars, with the slammer."

"Five dollars," I demand, holding my hand out as Jude counts out five dollar bills, "we've got time."

"What are you thinkin'…" he wonders out loud, his eyes fixed on me curiously.

I quickly grab the shot of alcohol, along with my drink, and make my way over to where the girl and her boyfriend are finishing their body shot, both of their faces flushed as he pulls her off of the bar and into his arms.

"Up you go," I say once we've made it to the now empty space, grinning when Jude laughs.

"No," he says, shaking his head slowly, "sorry, mate. That's just not happenin'."

I stare at Jude for a moment before setting both alcoholic beverages on the bar and reach forward to grab him by the front of his shirt. I pull him towards me and turn around so that I'm leaning into the other man, his lower back pressed against the edge of the bar.

"C'mon," I murmur, sliding against him as I press my lips to his ear, hearing the breath catch in his throat, "it'll be fun."

"I don't…" Jude starts to say, but stops when I press my fingers to the edge of his jeans, just barely touching the skin underneath his shirt. I slide my fingers to his waist and let them rest there as I lean closer until our lips are only a few centimeters apart.

"I'll owe you one," I say, our breath mingling as Jude exhales unevenly.

"Yeah, alright," he concedes. I pull back, congratulating myself even as the other man hops up onto the bar, his long legs dangling over the edge.

"Changed your mind, huh?" I tease.

Jude says nothing, but gives a soft chuckle as he stretches himself out in front of me, his feet kicking a couple glasses and knocking them dangerously close to the edge of the bar.

The bar hums around me, the electric noise buzzing in my ears as I sidle up next to Jude. I let my fingers fall back to the edge of his jeans and slip them under the hem of his t-shirt, gliding them up over his stomach as I drag his shirt up. I lean down and press an open mouthed kiss to the space just underneath his rib cage, feeling his stomach tense underneath my tongue.

I pull back and grab the salt shaker, tipping it over where my mouth had been. My eyes light up when I notice the plate of lime slices sitting a few feet down the bar, and I quickly snatch one and lean over Jude.

"Open up," I command, pressing the lime against the other man's lips. Jude sighs a martyr's sigh, but allows me to delicately place the lime in between his teeth. "Ready?" I ask, picking the shot of tequila up from the bar. Jude nods, his stomach muscles tensing up again as I pour the cold liquid onto his stomach. He gasps, and I lean over the other man to press my lips against his hipbone. I quickly lick up the salt before moving to where the tequila is pooled around his navel.

Jude's hands grip the edges of the bar, his knuckles turning white as my mouth flutters over his lower stomach. I rest my right hand on his thigh and leave the left one to press into his side. My tongue glides over soft skin as I lick up the rest of the tequila, Jude's stomach muscles tight as he chokes on a moan. I give his stomach one last lick, my tongue running in between his belly button and the edge of his jeans before I move up to take the lime from in between his lips. I bring my hand up to the lime that's now in between my teeth and pull a few inches away from Jude's flushed face.

I suck on the lime for only a second before Jude pushes my hand out of the way and crushes our lips together. He keeps our lips locked and pushes himself off of the bar, sliding his feet back to the floor. His t-shirt falls back to cover his stomach, and I smile against his mouth as he pulls me roughly against him.

"See? I told you you'd have fun," I breathe when Jude pulls away to bury his face in my neck, and I moan softly when he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the side of my neck.

"I did," he mumbles, his fingers brushing up underneath my shirt, "but you still owe me."

* * *

_Jude's POV_

"I think our plan is fucked," Max says, elbowing me in the ribs lightly. My eyes drift toward my left, where he is pressed against me, arm to arm.

"How's that?" I ask, turning onto my side. I can't help but outline shapes on his stomach with my finger as I wait for him to finish his thought; his bare skin is like a canvas in the morning. Goosebumps rise quickly along his chest and I lean down to kiss his shoulder, hoping to warm him.

"Because of our little charade last night." He looks up at me, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

"_Our_ charade? I believe it was your idea, Max. I was the victim of your twisted mind," I laugh, pressing my head to the pillow behind me. Max sighs and rests his hand against his thigh, using the other one to pull the blanket up to his chest.

"Whatever. Either way, neither of us is getting into Sadie's pants, man. She'd have to be stupid to have seen that and not get that we're fucking. Even the old man with the hot girlfriend figured it out and I'm not entirely sure he had it all up here," Max motions at his brain and widens his eyes. I laugh at his frustration, laying another kiss to the edge of his shoulder.

"Just because we're shagging each other doesn't mean we can't do the same to her, mate," I assure him. In reality, it would be better to forfeit the bet altogether than lose to Max; at least that way I wouldn't have to pay rent for two months. And as if that weren't incentive enough, my interest in Sadie has been slowly diminishing since hooking up with Max. Despite this, I am determined to stay loyal to the bet, if only to make myself seem less enamored with Max than I presently am.

"You could be right," Max says, staring idly at the ceiling of our room. Taking advantage of his faltered concentration, I capture his lips in a kiss, slowly lowering my body down onto his. He responds by slipping his fingers down the side of my pants, pulling my hips against his own. I separate our mouths and gravitate to his chest, running my tongue gently along his collarbone, and then down toward his nipple. Pleased with myself, I look up toward the other man, but disappointingly, find no expression on his face.

"You know, you owe me for last night. But, I guess, since I'm down here, I could, uh…" I tease, hoping to see a little light flood his eyes. Instead, Max tucks his arms beneath his head in silence. I continue down his chest with my mouth, swirling my tongue against his skin with light pressure. After a few more seconds sans response, I begin to feel frustrated, and dive into the pool head first.

Straightening my body out, I entangle my mouth with Max's, who finally emits a moan; from surprise or pleasure, I'm not sure. After successfully distracting him, I line up our hips and begin to slowly move up and down. Max's moaning becomes more prominent, and a few seconds later he breaks our mouths apart, gripping the back of my neck and guiding my motions. Our bodies accelerate, and we lightly kiss before realizing this feels way too fucking _good_ to hold in any noise we want to make.

"Jude," Max breathes against the crook of my neck, "_fuck._"

Before I can attempt to kiss him, Max's body tenses, and his hand drops away from my neck, his eyes glued to the entrance of the room. I glance back to see what's so interesting, when I notice Sadie walking past. I groan, flipping off of Max and onto my back.

"She's here; why not take another stab at it?" Max suggests, his breathing labored. I rub at my forehead, preparing myself for a half-assed attempt at a woman I don't even want.

"Alright," I mutter before pushing myself off the bed, straightening out my t-shirt.

I walk through the beads in our doorway and hesitantly into the kitchen. Sadie stands at the counter, a purple shirt draping her upper body and jeans tight on her legs. Licking my lips, I find myself unable to move. Lacking motivation is no good when you have to hit on someone. The curve of her breast is no longer appealing. Her nicely shaped ass doesn't even catch my attention. And even if she were in the robe I like so much, all that would come to mind is Max.

Sprinting back into the bedroom, I find Max is sitting with his knees hugged to his chest.

"What're you doing?" he asks. Slightly ignoring him, I rip my shirt off over my head, jumping onto the bed next to him.

"Fuck the bet," I mumble before pressing my lips to his and wrapping my arms around his waist. He laughs loudly into my mouth, giving me a second to savor the kiss before pulling away.

"Believe me, man, that's not all you'll be fucking tonight." He winks and I'm barely able to roll my eyes before he pushes me down onto the bed.

I guess I should have called off the bet sooner.

* * *

_Max's POV_

I clutch the box to my chest as I race upstairs, wondering at my spontaneous purchase. I had read about the game during a lull in customers earlier and knew immediately that I had to buy it.

The fifty cent off coupon helped make the decision as well.

"Jude!" I yell as soon as the door shuts behind me, "Pru, Sadie, JoJo!" I open the box and pull out the plastic mat, grinning from ear to ear as I spread it out on the floor in front of me.

"What? What is that thing?" Jude asks, making his way over to me.

"Twister," I reply, hearing Prudence laugh as she joins us.

"Y'know, I just read an article about this in the Voice," Prudence comments, placing her foot on a yellow dot, "something about it being sex in a box." Jude makes a noise and I cast a sidelong glance at him, noticing the smirk on his face as he rubs at the side of his neck.

"Yeah, I read it earlier today and had to see for myself…" Jude scoffs behind me, but I continue to ignore him in order to explain the rules of the game once Sadie and JoJo have joined us.

"No way!" Veronica exclaims, coming into the room from the kitchen, "Twister! Got room for one more?" she asks. I look at Sadie and JoJo, who are both shaking their heads.

"No way you're gettin' me to crawl around on that thing," JoJo comments, and Sadie nods her head in agreement.

"I'm getting a drink," Sadie announces, "anyone else?" Hands shoot up into the air, and Sadie sighs before doing a hand count.

"Alright, so Jude, Prudence, Veronica, and myself are the only ones playing?" I ask, watching as Georgey joins us, "Georgey? You up for a game of Twister?"

"No thanks," he smiles, taking a seat on the floor at the edge of the mat, "I will watch you guys make asses of yourselves, however."

"Thanks," Jude comments dryly.

"Sorry guys," Prudence interrupts, stretching down to touch her toes, "y'all don't stand a chance against me."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Jude says, and I glance over to see his eyes fixed on me, a smile turning the corners of his lips up, "some of us are rather flexible."

"Now now," I chuckle, handing the spinner to JoJo, "let's keep this a good, clean fight."

"Alright, first spin, guys," JoJo says, accepting a drink from Sadie with one hand while holding the spinner with the other. I bounce up and down on the balls of my feet, excitedly waiting for the spinner to stop.

Twenty minutes later and I'm struggling to keep myself upright. Veronica fell quickly, though I have a sneaking suspicion this was partly caused by the fact that she's high out of her mind. My sweaty palms slip against the plastic mat, and I hold my breath, waiting for the next call. Prudence somehow managed to be on one end of the mat by herself while Jude and I are forced to work around one another.

Jude's leg rubs up against mine, and I can tell he's barely holding on as well.

"Right foot, blue," Sadie drawls, JoJo having given up his post as spinner quickly enough. I groan after realizing that I have to move my foot all the way across the mat from the green dot. Jude inhales sharply when I slide my leg underneath his lower stomach, and I can't help but press my knee up towards him. I smile in what I hope to be a charming manner when the other man glances my way, a bead of sweat trailing down his neck.

"Jude, your foot needs to be on a dot," Georgey notices, his cheek pressed against his hand, propping his head up.

I watch, interested, as Jude slides his foot up and farther to the left, effectively positioning himself directly above my knee. Suddenly the term 'sex in a box' is made clear to me, as if using your body as a game piece wasn't scandalous enough… Jude swallows thickly.

"Hurry up and spin," Prudence yawns from where she's lithely stretched across the mat, her long hair dangling on the ground.

"Alright, calm down," Sadie says, finishing her drink, "left foot, yellow."

I watch as Jude gains the upper hand, though I doubt he even notices. I slide my foot easily enough to the yellow dot, but am forced to watch as Jude switches positions, his right knee bending so that his left leg stretches to reach the yellow. His tight t-shirt rides up against his back, and I barely contain a moan when Jude's tongue runs smoothly in between his lips. Well, isn't this a lovely picture…with Jude practically on his knees in front of me. I manage to catch Jude's attention and lock eyes with him, a knowing smile splayed across his lips.

"Right hand, green," Sadie announces, twirling her finger around a long strand of brown hair. I manage to slide my hand over to the nearest green dot, pausing when I feel Jude's hand brush against mine. My already labored breathing becomes strained as Jude starts to play with my fingers, his hand covering mine. I try to pull my hand away when instead I quickly lose my balance, taking the other man down with me as we collapse into a heap of breathless laughter.

"Game!" Prudence announces happily, standing up to gloat. I barely notice, however, as Jude has landed in a very awkward position on top of me with his thigh pressed in between my legs, his hot breath washing over the side of my neck.

This has turned into a very compromising situation, I think, moving my hand to grab at the back of Jude's neck. I start to shift underneath Jude, letting my right leg fall to the side as he presses heavily against me.

"Uh…" JoJo's voice seems to break the spell, and I quickly slide out from underneath Jude and hop up from the floor, making sure that Jude follows me by tugging lightly at his arm.

"Good game, everyone," I say, shaking Prudence's hand briskly as I move towards Jude's and my bedroom.

"Yeah, congratulations, Prudence," Jude adds, following closely behind me.

Sex in a box? More like chastity in a box…

I grab Jude and pull him into bed with me once we're in our room, his hands finding my hips as my mouth covers his.

"Remind me to never partake in a game that has the disclaimer 'look, don't touch,'" I murmur, watching as Jude smirks. He pulls my shirt off and ducks his head down to press a quick kiss to my chest.

"What, you didn't have fun?" he breathes, his face flushed as he runs his hands down my sides to where my jeans have become _way_ too tight. I help Jude get his shirt off before replying, tipping his head up from my neck where his tongue is distracting the hell out of me.

"How could I? That game was fucking torture, man."

"Agreed. What do you say…uh," Jude mumbles, a smirk on his face, "next time we skip Twister… and go straight to _this_?" he asks, making me moan when he grinds his hips against mine.

We could do that.

* * *

**Review, please! **


	3. It's All Been Done

**AN:** Thank you so much for you patience! We love our reviewers: thank you so much! Your input is always appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** Not ours. If it were, _Across the Universe _would be a VERY different story...

* * *

_Jude's POV_

Pressing my ear to the door of the closet, I begin to laugh when I hear a violent crash resonate from inside. I tap my finger lightly against the wood.

"What're you doin' now? Don't break any of Sadie's stuff!" I call, quietly twisting the doorknob in my hand. Luckily, Max didn't think to lock it. Once the light hits his face he freezes, seated awkwardly inside of a cardboard box full of feather boas.

Five minutes earlier, I had woken to an empty bed. After a few seconds of searching my brain for an explanation, I remembered something Max had mentioned the night before in a fatigued stupor: he had never been inside Sadie's closet. I laughed it off at the time, not really sure why anyone would be so curious about a closet, but I should have expected Max to set off on an expedition the first chance he got.

"Fuck, man! Do you know the meaning of a fucking surprise?" he scolds, gripping the shelves on either side of him. "Just forget it, now. You've ruined my fun." Trying to push himself to a stand, he successfully slips, flipping the box toward the wall so his feet point slightly upwards. I am tempted to laugh, but after a few seconds I peer over the top of the box.

"Hey, eh, you okay?" I wonder aloud.

"I'm going to say no. Could you help me the fuck up?" He says bitingly, outstretching his arm for me to grab. I pull him to his feet gently, making sure to catch the box in my other hand to avoid a floor full of feather boas. Once he's firm on the floor, he wraps his arms around my body tightly, pressing his head to my shoulder.

"There is shit on this floor that I don't ever want another human being to witness. My first trip to this closet has now become my last trip," he whines into my shirt, pulling away and walking to the front door.

"You goin' somewhere?" He smiles, nods, and jerks his head to the side, asking me to join him.

"I need fresh air after an hour of exploring that fucking thing," he says, pointing toward the closet and opening the door. I shrug.

"Might as well…" I mumble before following him promptly out the door, pulling at his arm to slow him down once I catch up. Max looks back at me when he feels my grip, then pins me to the wall, pressing a gentle kiss to my mouth. Attempting to thrust my tongue until it makes contact with Max's, I grasp the back of his neck, coaxing him to open up. He refuses. Instead, he keeps our lips together softly, his body floating over mine, barely touching in any specific area.

I feel the heat of his body, inches away from me but unattainable. My legs automatically move towards him, and I shake with anticipation, wanting him badly, but sadistically loving this game he's playing. When he finally gives in I sigh in relief, pushing myself against him roughly to compensate for lost time. My leg wraps around his, pulling him closer, and I tangle my fingers in his long hair. Laughing at my now frequent moans into his mouth, Max breaks away from the kiss.

"That worked pretty damn well, if I do say so myself," he snickers, and I force our mouths back together, missing the contact. Seconds later, I feel much more satisfied, and allow Max to separate from me, but only by a few centimeters.

"So I messed up some sort of surprise, eh? And what was it?" Our noses touch when he leans forward in a laugh, and I take the opportunity to catch him in a quick kiss before he answers.

"Let's just say you missed your chance to see me sporting Sadie's old feather boas and your favorite robe of hers," he teases, flipping my collar up with his fingers. I raise an eyebrow.

"How'd you know…" I wonder aloud, trying to meet his eye line.

"Well, when you fucked me in it, I kind of assumed you had to be at least somewhat fond of the thing." My cheeks blush, and instead of rambling on thanks or making a fool of myself with any sort of verbalization of how fucking much I wish we weren't up against a wall in a public place, I opt to flip Max against the wall, switching our positions, and bury my face deep into his neck. He groans when my tongue meets his bare skin, and I smile. Maybe fucking him against a wall could work if no one walks out of their apartment…

"Let's go outside," Max moans into the space above my head. Jerking my mouth away from his neck, I frown at him when we meet eye to eye. "You can finish this out there. I need the fresh air," he comforts me, gently rubbing a hand against the small of my back. Shrugging, I allow him to again lead me to a new destination.

Twenty minutes later we stop in front of a worn down ice cream parlor. The paint is chipping off of the walls, and the light in the sign blinks at us sporadically. It appears a little shifty, but if Max wants ice cream, then ice cream he will get. And evidently, he does.

He pulls me inside with enthusiasm, and jumps to the front counter to examine the menu; that is, the choice of three flavors of ice cream that the tiny shop offers. Looking back, Max summons me to the counter next to him, and I gaze down at the pitch black chocolate, crusty white vanilla, and questionable strawberry before me.

An employee appears from the kitchen, and after taking a second to wonder why a kitchen is necessary in a run-down ice cream shop with three flavors, I notice that he is impatiently tapping his fingers against his arm, awaiting my order. Rolling my eyes, I take a breath and decide to take a chance on the strawberry. You can't mess up strawberry ice cream that much, can you?

"I'll have the…" I begin, when, luckily, I catch sight of a banana, hiding in between the edge of the glass and the vanilla. Elbowing Max lightly in the side, I change my order hastily. "Can I have one of those, eh, banana splits?" I ask, pointing at the large banana tucked away in the corner. The gruff employee scoffs, but when Max begins to pull out money, he surrenders.

A minute or so later, I'm carting my banana split to a seedy table by a so-called restroom in the back. Max licks strawberry ice cream out of the cone in his hand, and I chuckle when he squirms in repulsion.

I knew it looked suspicious…

We take our seats in the booth across from each other, but not before Max dumps his cone into the trash can.

"Waste of fuckin' money," he groans, watching as I set my dessert down on the table and eye it hungrily.

"Yeah," I mumble, pushing the banana out of the way with my spoon and scooping up the vanilla ice cream surrounding it. Unfortunately, as I soon find out, I'm quite out of practice when it comes to gracefully eating ice cream, and the melting liquid runs quickly down the spoon and all over my hand. I waste no time in removing it with my mouth, looping my tongue between my fingers and across my palm. After a few more similar bites, I give up, drop the spoon, and use my pointer finger to pick up chunks of remaining ice cream.

I gather all that I can on my fingers, and each time, suck it off hurriedly before it slides down my arm. Dipping my finger down for another helping, I realize that Max has been staring at me the entire time.

"You getting a kick outta this, mate?" Max nods before I finish my sentence, reaching his hand across the table and imitating my previous behavior. He dips one of his fingers into the ice cream, swiftly trailing it in between my lips. I tongue his finger completely, scraping every last drip from his skin and then some.

"What about your banana?" he asks suggestively with a smirk. I wipe my damp fingers on my jeans.

"I was saving it for the end," I answer, and watch as he picks up the peeled fruit with his left hand.

"You ever seen Lady and the Tramp?" Max says, readying himself to place the banana in his mouth. I shake my head. "Whatever," he blows it off, putting one end of the banana between his lips and leaning over the table to fit the remaining half against mine. I accept it, and start to understand what he's looking to do.

Slowly, we bite our way toward the center, and eventually, Max reaches his hand out to rest on the back of my neck, as if that will help him get more in his mouth. I pull on the front of his t-shirt, and try not to choke on the massive pieces of thick banana caking the insides of my mouth. Closing my eyes, I feel only slightly guilty that the front of my jeans are becoming increasingly tighter.  
Only a few bites in, Max shakes his head fervently, allows the banana to drop to the table, and forces our lips together. At first I find it difficult to move past the chunks of food in my mouth, but when Max breaks the kiss, stands up and joins me on one side of the booth, I am allowed a few seconds to swallow and focus on something much more interesting.

Max kneels in front of me, leaning his mouth down to meet mine again. I wrap my arms around his middle, pulling him toward me so his hips jut into my stomach.

"That worked better in the movie. Then again, it was a cartoon. And they used spaghetti," Max tells me , running his fingers through my hair while I hug him tightly to me.

"You disappoint me. I thought you could handle more banana than that, Max." I raise an eyebrow, and he throws his head back with a laugh.

"Oh, you have no idea," Max says seriously, removing himself from the booth and grasping my hand in his.

As Max leads me out of the shop and into a secluded alley nearby, pushes me against the wall, and proves his point – very well, I might add – I think of how grateful I am that I saw that banana. After all, I don't particularly find strawberry ice cream sexy…

* * *

_Max's POV_

I thumb through the mail on my way down the stairs, flipping through bills and letters from protesters urging me to take my part in the fight against injustice. Sadie, Sadie, George, Sadie, JoJo…

I pause when a letter bearing my name appears, and I look at the return address. It's from home.

I rip the envelope open and grab the folded piece of paper, smiling when I notice my sister Lucy's perfect handwriting all over the flowered stationary.

_Max,_ it starts, and I pause to shove the rest of the mail into my backpack.

_Max,_

_I hope this letter finds you okay… Mom gave me the address, but she wasn't sure if you were still living at this address. Something about "you disappearing in the middle of the night, without a word to alleviate the worry" you've put her through. I wonder what that could have been about, ha ha. _

_I graduated a month ago, and I know mom called to tell you what happened to Daniel… Now mom and dad want me to go to Europe with them. You know I wanted to go with you and Jude when you guys first left for the city. Is he still with you, by the way? He hasn't gone back to England yet, has he?_

_If he has, I was wondering if, instead of going to Europe with mom and dad, I could come stay with you in New York. I know it's a lot to ask, but I wouldn't be a burden. I promise. I hope you can understand; I just really don't want to be with mom and dad alone right now. Mom tries to help and understand, and dad pretends it didn't happen. I don't know why I expect you to understand better than they do, but I do._

_In any case, I think I'll feel a lot better if I spend the summer with you. And if Jude is still around, then I don't need that much space. I would even stay with a friend of yours, if you wanted me to._

_I hope to hear from you soon. I'm sorry for asking so much of you. Give me a call sometime, okay?_

_Love,_

_ Lucy_

After work, I climb back up the stairs tiredly, thoughts rushing through my mind. I push the door open and kick my shoes off, still wondering what to do about Lucy. It's not that I don't want my baby sister here, it's just that I don't really want my baby sister here. New York is a tough city, and I'm not sure how well the teenage suburban princess would take to the grit and grime that makes up this place.

I'm being too hard on her. It's not that I don't want Lucy here, exactly, it's just that I'm not sure if coming here is the best thing for her. Her boyfriend died only a few months ago, and I'm not sure what good I can do to help her through that. For once, I have no idea what to do or say.

Lucy and I are close enough, sure; as close as two siblings can be without really talking to each other. She has her problems, and I have mine. It's not like we share everything, staying up late having in-depth discussions. I don't know what she expects from me. I don't know what she expects to happen by coming to stay with her older brother for a summer.

I can get her drugs, I can get her alcohol, but as far as emotional support goes…

I'm a great role model.

I pick up the phone and dial the right numbers before shoving the phone to my ear. I don't know what to say, but prolonging this phone call definitely won't help.

"Hello?" Julia picks up, and I clear my throat.

"Hey, Julia," I say quickly, "is Luce there?"

"Max?" she asks, and I nod my head before realizing I have to say something.

"Yeah, it's me," I mumble, wondering where this feeling of not belonging to my family came from. Here, in New York, I sometimes forget I have a real, biological family who isn't the tight knit group of people I room with. It's so easy to get lost here.

"You want to talk to Lucy?" she continues, stalling, "Mom's here, and dad is on his way home from…"

"Just Lucy, Julia," I say sternly, knowing that a "chat" with my mom is the last thing I need right now.

"Okay, one second," she says, and I press my hand to the wall in front of me for support. I'm going to have to tell her no.

"Hello?" Lucy's voice says, and I imagine her in her room, lying on her bed with the phone chord stretching halfway across the room.

"Hi," I say, "how are you?"

"I'm alright," she answers, her voice tight, measured, "I slept in until 10 this morning. Mother had a fit."

I laugh.

"I, uh… I got your letter," I continue, cutting to the chase after Lucy talks for a moment about her summer vacation and how she's already finished several books by authors whose names I remember from high school.

"Oh, is that right?" she says nervously, "…what do you think?"

"Look, Lucy," I start, but stop when I feel a pair of hands slide around my waist from behind, "could you hold on a second?" I ask, and pull the phone from my ear. "I'm on the phone," I tell Jude, turning around to face him.

"I can see that," he smiles, and I glare at him. I sigh and push the phone back to my ear.

"Sorry," I apologize, and Lucy reassures me that it's okay, "About your letter, though…" I point to the table when Jude asks me what letter, his body heat leaving me when he goes to see what I'm talking about, "I'm working this summer, a lot, and there's really not much room in the flat… Jude is still here and I need to talk it over with Sadie, the landlady. Ultimately it's up to her, Luce."

"I know, and if it's too much trouble then just forget about it," she says quickly, obviously relieved that I didn't just say no and have that be the end of it.

"…you sure?" I ask, "You sure that coming here will be okay?" I elaborate awkwardly, relaxing a little bit when Jude wraps his arms around my waist again, his chin resting on my shoulder.

"Yeah, totally," she says nonchalantly, "I mean, it'll be better than being cooped up with mom and dad for a few weeks."

"Alright," I sigh, rubbing my forehead, "let me talk it over with the guys here, and I'll let you know before the end of the week."

"Okay," she says, her voice hopeful, "thanks, Max."

"Mm," I grunt, my throat feeling tight as Jude's hands rub over my stomach, "I'll call you later, alright?"

"Alright. Talk to you later."

"Bye," I say, hanging up the phone just as Jude's fingers dip underneath the waistline of my jeans, "Jude," I continue, turning around to face him again, his hands settling on my hips, "what the hell?"

"What?" he asks, a frown on his lips.

"I don't know," I admit, leaning back against the wall, "never mind."

Jude watches me for a moment, his eyes calculating and calm as I silently beat myself up for not telling Lucy what I'm thinking. She can't come here, she wouldn't know what to do with herself. Or maybe…

I glance over to Jude, and suddenly the possibility that she would find too much to do with herself while she's here enters my mind.

"What is it, Max?" Jude asks again, worrying his lower lip in between his teeth.

"Nothing," I promise, running a hand through my hair, "what do you think about Lucy coming to stay here for the summer?"

"I don't care," Jude shrugs, his eyes lighting up as realization dawns on him, "one Carrigan is enough for me."

Jude moves to stand closely in front of me, his hands moving back to my hips as he leans in to place a light kiss on the side of my neck. I slide my hands up and over his chest, tangling my right hand into his messy hair. I push slightly on the back of his head, his lips pressing harder and harder against my skin until he grabs me away from the wall and pulls me up against him. He throws his arms around me in a tight hug, leaving me breathless as he buries his head in the space between my neck and shoulder.

His lips move softly against my skin as he talks.

"You're more than enough for me, Max," he whispers, and I let out a breathless chuckle. He really doesn't have to try very hard to be charming, does he?

"Well that's good," I mumble, petting the back of his head and letting my fingers trail over his neck, "because I am very selfish. Especially when it comes to…" I pull back and look at Jude, a lopsided smile on his face, his hair messed up, his dark eyes shining, "well."

I take his face in my hands and let my thumb run down his cheek before I kiss him, his lips meeting mine softly.

"Affection is all very well and good," Jude mumbles, smirking, "but in between work and all the girls you've shacked up with this past week, you've barely found time for your best mate, don't you think?"

"I could say the same for you, you know," I counter, "well, almost. Minus the work part."

"I'm sellin' my paintings," he protests, grinning as I push him back towards the couch.

"Yeah, to Georgey," I scoff, "and he doesn't count."

"What?" he laughs, falling onto the couch after I shove him lightly in the chest, "He does too count. He gives me money for 'em, doesn't he? He counts…" Jude trails, his expression turning serious as I crawl on top of him. His hands grip the backs of my thighs as I straddle his lap, my elbows leaning on his shoulders with my fingers tangled thickly in his dark hair.

The conversation dead ends with Jude staring up at me, his lips slightly parted, his breathing shallow, his eyes wide, expectant.

"You're like a dog begging for a treat, man," I laugh, successfully breaking the tension between us. Jude groans and lets his head fall against the back of the couch.

"I'm sorry, am I here for a reason?" he asks, a sharp edge to his tone.

"Hey, calm down, you'll get what you came for," I joke, adopting a thick New York accent.

Jude sighs, his brown eyes pleading with me to stop. He'll just have to deal. The things a twelve hour shift will do to a mind…

Especially when the mind was twisted enough to begin with.

I quickly pull my shirt over my head, giving Jude what he wants. And me. I want this too. I wasn't lying before when I said I'm selfish.

Jude is immediately pulling me closer to him, his hands ghosting over my back and shoulders. His mouth is on my chest, pressing against my collarbone. I reach down and tug his shirt up and off of him before pushing my mouth against his.

I press into Jude so that he's forced to lie down on the couch, my back arched as I lean over him. I stretch out, my body now covering his as I slide my tongue against his, coaxing a moan from him.

"Christ," Jude breathes when I pull away from him, quickly adding a "_fuck_, Max…" when I grind my hips against his.

Jude's hands reach up to grab me by the back of the neck and force me down into a kiss, lips pressing together, tongues entangling until I pull back, biting his lip lightly as I let go. I sit back up and fumble around with the fly on Jude's jeans, glancing up when I hear the other man make a noise in the back of his throat.

"H…hey, Prudence," Jude manages to say, and my eyes grow wide when I notice the small girl standing in the doorway.

I let out a short laugh before collapsing on top of Jude to bury my head in the side of his neck, his chest heaving against mine. I take deep breaths to try and calm myself down.

Jude starts to sit up when Prudence stops him.

"No, please, God, don't let me…" she rambles, a grin on her face, "don't let me interrupt you two. Looks like you were having fun, so I'll just…" She starts to turn around when she hesitates.

Jude wraps his arms around my lower back and presses his cheek against the top of my head, his breathing slowly evening out as the seconds go by.

"So _that's_ why…" she murmurs to herself, and then continues more loudly, "I was wondering why you both stopped having sex with me at around the same time. I was starting to think it was me," she smiles, "Oh well. Can't say I miss it," she adds, almost as an afterthought, before leaving the room. We listen until the door to the flat closes, letting us know that Prudence has left.

"Jude," I say, pushing myself up, "you were fucking Pru?"

"Yeah, what of it? You were too," he says defensively, and I smirk before unbuttoning his fly.

"Totally could've had a threesome, man," I say, my smirk growing into a grin as Jude eyes me, his face still flushed.

"Too bad," he murmurs, "guess you'll have to settle for just me."

"I guess," I whisper into his ear, moving to press kisses down his chest and stomach. I graze my teeth against Jude's hipbone as my fingers curl underneath the waistline of his jeans, grinning when I hear him moan, "Twist my arm, why don'cha?"

* * *

**Review, please! **Yes, we brought Lucy into the picture... dun dun dun...

Until next chapter. :-)


	4. Here Today

**AN: **Hey, sorry for the long delay in getting this out! We've both been pretty busy getting ready for college, and I actually took a couple of weeks to go and visit Jade (neonnchrome1123), so that hopefully explains it a bit.

_**WARNING:**_ There is a section in this chapter that is rated NC-17 for sexual content. It's the second Max POV section. Just to let you all know.

**Disclaimer: **Not ours.

Enjoy!

* * *

_Jude's POV_

"You really didn't have to come," Max tells me, slumping down into a raunchy looking seat at the train station. I shrug and join him, pressing closely to his body.

"I don't mind. 'ad nothing to do, anyway." It's true. All I would have done was draw, stare at a wall, or maybe try to find some of Max's pot. I'm pretty sure he'd prefer me being here to arriving home to a stoned friend and an empty supply of weed.

"She said she'd be on platform…uhh…" Max hesitates, and I attempt to pull the number out of my memory as well. He looks to me hopefully, counting on me to have retained some sort of useful information. I shake my head with a frown.

"She's your sister. I shouldn't 'ave counted on your memory, though, eh?" I laugh, wrapping my arm around his shoulder. Smirking, Max loosens himself from my grip and spreads out across the grimy station seats, his legs resting on my lap. He throws his arms behind his head and closes his eyes.

"If she really wants to be picked up, she will find her way to us somehow. I'm not searching this whole fuckin' place for her, man. Waste of my time," he groans, his eyes snapping open as he peers over at me. "Too harsh?" he asks, and I nod slowly.

"Shouldn't we just look a little?" I whine. I would rather not leave Lucy in a train station to fend for herself, especially not one in New York. Exhaling deeply, Max gives in and sits up, turning his head to each side. Finally pivoting to face me, he shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't see her," he says, smiling. I shake my head, not amused. "You really are determined, aren't you? Am I boring you?" he says when he sees me discouraged, and I chuckle softly.

"Course not," I say, reaching my arm around his shoulders once again, this time pulling him closer. Inconspicuously, I bend my head toward his neck, burying my face there and meeting the scratchy skin with my lips. Moistening them to make the process easier, Max tips his head back gently, far enough so I have easier access, but still hiding me from the rest of the station. I'm guessing it looks like I've fallen asleep on his shoulder, but either way I don't really care what people can or can't see.

"I didn't know looking for Lucy would be so enjoyable," he teases, and then allows his head to drop back completely. Pressing my hand to the other side of his neck, I use my tongue skillfully, swirling and spinning, running it up behind his earlobe and siphoning a low moan. The noise eggs me on, and I move my mouth to Max's, grasping his arm and pulling until he is pressed securely to my chest.

I never imagined Max's kissing to be like this. It's patient and soft, not chaotic, like his personality. Even sleeping with him is intense, but not because it's violent or rough. Max's hands move like clockwork, knowing exactly how I want to be touched and when. And right now is no different. Max's hand floats across my thigh, his fingers tenderly tickling the skin underneath my jeans. Placing my own hand on top of his, I guide it up my leg until he reaches…

"Ahem," a mousy voice echoes next to us. Breaking apart suddenly, Max and I notice a tiny woman seated a few spaces beside us, pursing her lips and crinkling her forehead in disapproval.

"Young men, you never know who could see you performing such despicable acts," she sniffs, clenching her fist tightly around her pink clutch bag. Max scoffs.

"Old lady, all I can say is be glad that we're in public," he says with a smirk, "if you think you've seen despicable, you don't know the half of it." The smile on his face grows quickly, and before I have time to drag him away to a darkened corner in order to finish up, the old lady rises to her feet, wiping at her mouth with a handkerchief.

"You should be ashamed," she snaps, walking hurriedly away.

"Close one, eh?" I mutter before Max catches my lips with his and grabs my thigh firmly in his hand. I groan against his mouth, all thoughts of the old lady clearing completely from my mind. Now all that's there is how the hell to get Max out of his clothes, and fast. But before I can even begin to remove the smallest article of clothing, a loud growl comes from my stomach. Max pulls away quickly, glancing down at the source of the noise.

"Jude, did you forget to eat again, man?" Max asks, and I join him in looking down at my abdomen.

"Just because I'm an artist doesn't mean I'm starving," I respond, smiling.

"Coulda fooled me," Max chuckles, tickling lightly at my ribs before standing up hastily in front of me. "Come on, we can get something to eat before Luce shows up." Max pulls me out of my seat and I plant two feet on the ground in front of him, pecking him shyly on the cheek.

"All I need for dinner is you," I assure him, ruffling his hair with the tips of my fingers.

"That was straight out of a greeting card," he replies and leads me to a relatively nice-looking restaurant across from the train station named "Leon's." We sit down in a maroon booth, and Max pokes at the menu for a little while before informing me he is going to order a cheeseburger and fries.

"Quite American, yeah?" I say, and he nods with pride. I order something called the "supreme surprise" and devour it before I have time to decode what the surprise really is.

"So I'm thinking you should try to advertise your paintings to someone other than Georgey. Maybe branch out?" Max says with a touch of sarcasm. I bring my thumb up to my lips and begin chewing on my nail, when Max kicks me beneath the table.

"I'm serious, man. You could make some serious money. Then I could retire from the cab driving business," he tells me, chewing obnoxiously on a fry.

"Anything to give you more time to sit at home and get high," I mock, feeling his leg rest against mine under the blue tabletop. "Maybe I'll give it a shot," I say seriously.

Maybe he is right; maybe I could actually sell something sometime. If not just to Georgey then to some sort of art expert who thinks that new, unique work is fresh and interesting. Or maybe I'll just continue to donate it to Rat for a few dozen dollars in return. That sounds like the easiest plan.

"Lucy must be lost," I say, breaking the silence we had running for a few minutes. Max groans, looking up at the clock on the cracking wall.

"Shit. We better go look." He stuffs a few more fries in his mouth before sliding out of the booth. Slinking over next to him, I reach subtly into his pocket, retrieving a few dollar bills and tossing them onto the table. He doesn't notice until we're almost out the door, at which point he sighs and just leaves the money.

Once we get out the door, a familiar blonde face stares back at us.

"Lucy!" Max yells, feigning sheer excitement, when I can tell his voice is cloaked in nothing but fatigue and frustration for having to pay for a meal he intended on eating for free.

"Hey, I've been looking for you guys for a while. You were eating?" Lucy asks, pointing up at the sign of the diner and frowning.

"Uhh," Max stutters, "Jude's stomach was about to cave in on itself so we decided to grab a bite. Didn't mean to make you wait, sorry." He hugs his sister, and she seems to accept his answer when he snatches her suitcase away from her and carries it himself. I offer a wave and sidle alongside Max, brushing our arms together as we walk.

"Are we going to the apartment?" says Lucy, folding her arms across her chest awkwardly. She looks as if she doesn't really know what to do with herself. Max begins to nod and then something dawns on him.

"Nah, we're going to Café Huh?; Sadie's got a gig there tonight. She's the landlady. You'll meet everyone," he assures her, looking to me soon after as if I'm expected to back him up.

"Eh, yeah, I'm pretty sure Pru said she'd be there," I add, shoving my hands in my pockets to avoid touching Max. I'm not quite sure how much touching he wants us to do around his sister, but for now, I'll keep it to a minimum.

"Great," Lucy mutters, following Max to the exit. As I notice her pushing a piece of hair away from her face, I also realize that blue matches her eyes quite well; in fact, her eyes are a beautiful shade. Just like her brother's. But I have to say, I prefer the clouded green-blue of Max's eyes to her pale blue.

...

I watch as Lucy disappears into her room, then slump down onto the couch, staring at the walls in front of me. Eventually, I begin to critique the work I have scribbled against the white paint. Max could be right; everyone in the city suddenly seems to be interested in art of any kind. However, I'm not sure if the recent abundance of strip clubs counts as art, although Max might disagree.

Seconds later, Max joins me on the couch.

"Hey," he mumbles with a sigh.

"Hey. Bored?" I say, stretching my arms out against the back of the couch. Max nods, his eyes set on nothing.

I can't find the words I want. I've never had trouble talking to Max before, but now, I'm at a complete loss. What do you say to someone who just got drafted? Sure, we all think he'll get out of it. How could he not? He's Max. He's indestructible and he'll always stay that way. But the reality of Max going to war is incomprehensible.

At this point, I'm not really sure how he feels about it. He brushed it off at the diner; he made it seem as if it wasn't a big deal, even though he looked slightly freaked when JoJo assured him burning his draft notice wouldn't do shit. Laughing it off on the way home, he convinced me that even if he had forgotten the date and time printed on the sheet, they'd find some way to get his ass there. I didn't say anything.

Lucy weaves in and out of the door to our room, grabbing her bags one by one to pull them inside. Her hair is wet, I thought I heard the shower running, and she's sporting nothing but a white camisole and jeans. Both Carrigans can pull off jeans exceptionally well, I note, glancing down to see Max in a rather tight-fitting pair.

"She looks good, yeah?" I state, looking over to Max. His face drops quickly, however, and he tips his head to check for Lucy before he begins to speak.

Or rather, before he begins to yell…

"If you wanna fuck her, man, just go ahead. Obviously I'm not standing in your way. Not that it would matter if I were." Still seated, Max flails his arms in the air, running one hand through his blond hair and squeezing the other around his thigh in anger. "You've been eyeing her all day, and we all know how much it takes for you to bed someone! Jesus, Jude, she's my fucking sister," he curses under his breath, when I press a hand to his shoulder.

"Max! Calm down! I just meant, she looks…emotionally stable," I clarify, leaning away from him slowly. Expecting him to apologize, laugh, or even force a kiss on me, I am surprised when he stands up and begins walking toward Prudence's room.

"Yeah, well, I wish I could say the same for myself," he adds before exiting into Pru's room for good. I attempt to comprehend what just happened, but I can't quite get it through my head.

Lucy walks out of her room, dressed exactly the same. I give her a false smile, and she returns it authentically, sliding next to me on the couch. Gazing down at her hands, I notice her smooth skin and quickly compare them to the calloused exterior of Max's.

"I'm nervous about the party," she says bluntly and I frown.

"Why're you nervous?" She shrugs her shoulders then turns to face me, sitting on the edge of the couch.

"I barely know anyone besides you and Max. And I guess there's everyone else who lives here, but I can tell they don't like me very much," she tells me, running fingers through her hair to straighten it out.

"They like you well enough. Don't worry so much," I respond, laying a light hand on her shoulder, but not before making sure Max can't see us.

"Will you stay with me?" Her eyes grow wide, the pale blue shining in the dim light of the room. I stutter, gazing over toward Prudence's room.

"Yeah, of course. I'll stick with ya." She smiles at me and my stomach clenches into knots.

* * *

_Max's POV (NC-17)  
_

I wake up feeling hung over and old. My arm is pinned uncomfortably underneath me, making my chest hurt. I barely open my eyes against the sun, the stale taste in my mouth overriding any thoughts of breakfast. My arm automatically feels for another body lying next to mine, but I'm disappointed to find that I'm alone. I mean, even if Jude didn't want to fuck, I could have at least found somebody else… My chest hurts.

I sit up, relieving the pain in my chest as I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with air. I scratch at the back of my thigh, trying to think through the muggy feeling that's weighing down my brain. Morning mouth.

I stand up and make my way towards the bathroom, reaching down to tie my robe more securely around me. I push the beads that hang in the doorway to our room out of my face, my stomach dropping when I take in the sight of Jude wrapped contently around Lucy.

Lovely. They could have at least tried to cover up a little more. Or maybe they could have kindly fucked elsewhere. Or not at all.

"So that's the way it is," I comment, surprising myself. Jude and Lucy slowly wake up and I lean against the dresser, watching as Lucy squirms uncomfortably. If only she knew it isn't _her_ I'm glaring at…

"Yeah, that's the way it is," Jude replies, giving me a curious look. Why the hell does this piss me off so much?

"Yeah, well, speaking as a brother, I think she could do better." Lucy gives an exasperated laugh before telling me to get out, of _my fucking room_, as she covers herself up. I move towards the bathroom, making some throwaway comment about young love and my "date" with Uncle Sam. I feel Jude's eyes on me, and I can almost see the confusion on his face as I shut the door behind me.

Shit. I've got it bad.

I scrub furiously at my teeth, white foam ringing my lips before I lean over and spit into the sink.The door opens and I ignore Jude as he creeps into the bathroom, the door shutting again behind him. I cup my hands underneath the steady stream of water coming from the sink and rinse, wiping my chin off with the sleeve of my robe as I stand back up.

"Max," Jude starts, pausing as I turn around to face him. The breath catches in my throat when I see Jude. He could have at least put a shirt on. And he could have buttoned his jeans so that I wouldn't be able to tell he's not wearing anything underneath. And maybe he could try to look a little less irresistible by wiping that worried expression off of his face and smoothing his mussed up hair down a bit.

Yeah, I think, my eyes wandering over the other man, I think that would make this a lot easier.

"Max, I…" he tries again, licking his lips nervously.

"I have an hour," I interrupt, leaning against the edge of the bathroom counter.

"What?" he asks, the worried expression quickly replaced by confusion.

"You have an hour," I say, loosening the knot on my robe, "to apologize for last night."

"You're not mad?" he asks, a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Livid. It'll only get worse if you don't get over here quickly, though," I reply, watching with grim satisfaction as Jude takes a few hesitant steps towards me.

Jude's hand lightly presses to my thigh, and I let out a shaky breath, my hands gripping the edge of the counter tightly. My head rolls back on my neck that's suddenly too weak and I let my eyes flutter shut as Jude's hand continues to slide up my thigh, his other hand snaking around my waist to grab onto my hip. I mold myself to Jude's whims for the moment, letting him tug me away from the counter as he gently pulls me to him, his lips pressing tentative kisses to the side of my neck. Jude brings a hand up to the back of my head, his fingers softly running over my tangled hair and down to cradle my neck.

"So… how was it?" I whisper, my chest tightening as Jude stops moving, his body going rigid against mine.

"Max, what…" he starts to ask, but never finishes as I roughly push him into the wall behind him. The other man's eyes go wide, the breath escaping him as I shove him back again, pressing my body into his.

"Did she do her brother proud?" I hiss, unable to stop myself as I hold Jude pinned against the wall, our chests rising and falling heavily.

"But… I thought… you said," Jude stammers, his dark eyes flashing.

"_You_ said, Jude," I laugh, falling away from my terrified roommate, "_you_ said that one was enough… that I was enough." A short silence follows, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing. I wipe my chin with my sleeve again before muttering, "God _dammit_, Jude."

I shove Jude back into the wall, my hands on his shoulders as I throw myself at him with all my weight. His head knocks sharply against the uneven wood, and I can't bring myself to care as I crash our mouths together, hearing him inhale sharply through his nose.

"Oh _fuck_ you, Max," Jude mumbles, the tension rising in the air again as I'm pushed backwards up against the counter. Strong hands aggressively force me up onto the counter, gripping the backs of my thighs. I barely register the noise of several toothbrushes falling to the floor as I'm shoved unceremoniously next to the sink, the backs of my knees hitting the edge of the counter painfully.

Jude presses himself in between my thighs, and I lock my ankles behind his back as he grabs at my robe. With shaking fingers Jude manages to untie my robe, and I pull Jude closer to me with my legs as he rips the fabric off of me, his mouth immediately sucking at the skin stretched over my collarbone.

I moan loudly and quickly grit my teeth when I feel Jude's fingers on me, grateful that I didn't wear boxers to complicate this already fucked up situation. I dig my fingers into Jude's hair and yank his mouth away from my chest, hearing him moan under his breath as I kiss him roughly, my tongue sliding in between his lips.

"God," Jude breathes when I end the kiss with a quick bite to his lower lip, moving my mouth to his neck where I can nip at his throat.

Jude's hand starts up a steady rhythm, his fingers stroking up and down and reducing me to a moaning, groaning mess. I manage to press myself forward and let my fingers trail down Jude's sides to where his jeans are hanging loosely off of his hips.

I bring my hands around to the front to unzip his fly in order to reciprocate some, hooking my thumbs into the pockets of his jeans as I drag the material off of his hips. Working around Jude's arm proves to be more difficult than I thought, but I manage to wrap my fingers around Jude, hearing him groan as soon as my fingers are on him.

Jude's teeth graze against my chest before he licks over to my nipple, his free hand sliding up my chest to rest against my shoulder. I let my head fall back against the wall, my eyes shut tight as Jude's grip on me tightens.

My entire body tenses as Jude brings me to completion, his hand slowing down with mine as I realize my moaning hadn't gotten louder, but the moans were simply coming from two throats instead of one. I lean forward into Jude, letting my head fall against his as our breathing slows.

"Max," Jude starts, his flushed face looking up into mine.

"Save it," I interrupt, pushing him away from me as I hop off of the counter, "I need to get going."

I pick the robe up off of the floor and mechanically tie it around my waist, a cold chill running down my spine.

...

"That's 138 for you, honey," the nurse tells me, making a note on her clipboard. I glance at the scale, apathetic to the fact that I've lost five pounds. I step down to follow the nurse, who is walking away, a little unnerved by the fact that I've already lost my clothes. I'm fairly sure my dignity will follow soon after.

They don't waste time here.

I'm shown to a small, horrible room down a maze of hallways. The nurse reassures me that the doctor will be in soon, and I sit in the chair near the corner of the room, letting my fingers drum against the armrest. My boxers ride up my thighs, and I notice a light bruise forming at the backs of my knees from where Jude slammed me against the counter earlier this morning.

My stomach clenches at the thought of Jude, mixed feelings swirling around in my head as I try not to remember him in bed with Lucy.

The door opens and I'm immediately on my feet, watching as a middle aged doctor walks into the room, an easy smile on his face.

"Good morning," he says, extending his hand for me to shake, "I'm Doctor Frye."

"Max," I mumble, moving to put my hands in my pockets when I remember my state of undress. This really fucking sucks.

"Alright, Max, I'm going to start by asking you a few questions about your family history. Is there a history of heart problems in your family?" he asks, sitting down on a swivel stool and pulling a pen out of his pocket.

"What would happen if I answered all of your questions with 'yes'?" I ask distractedly, scratching at my stomach. I watch as Dr. Frye flips through a few pages on the clipboard before he glances up at me.

"Well, then I'd have to subject you to a series of potentially uncomfortable, unnecessary tests. Trust me, some of them are worse than checking for hernias."

Oh.

"No, no heart problems," I say, slouching into my chair. I take a deep breath and manage to get through all of the questions, my mind barely paying any attention to what's going on in front of me. My body becomes a doll, a mindless, flexible, limp doll that is tossed around from room to room, doctor to doctor, specialist to specialist, hit with small hammers to test for reflexes, poked with needles for blood samples, examined, scrutinized.

I slowly come to the realization that this is what it will be like for what is possibly the rest of my life. I don't own myself anymore; I belong to the government.

I'm going to Vietnam.

A shiver runs down my spine as another needle is stuck through my skin, another blood sample, and I try to put my mind onto other things. The thought that at least it's me, and not Jude, who's going to war makes its way into my brain.

I don't know when I started thinking like that about Jude. I'm not sure I like it.

"Goddammit, how many more fucking blood samples do you _need_?" I snap when a nurse enters the room, reaching into the drawer for yet another needle.

"You're done, Mr. Carriagan. You can leave. Go to General Richards' office," she replies without hesitation, taking the needle with her as she leaves.

"Wait, you don't need an x-ray?" I ask hopefully, "and where are my…" I'm cut off as the nurse shuts the door behind her, "…clothes." I look around the room I'm in, wondering what the hell they did with my clothes. Oh well. Can't keep General Richards waiting…

I walk down the hallway towards the general's office, ignoring strange looks from other army members. Even though I know it's impossible for Jude to get drafted, the thought of him leaving to go get shot at scares the shit out of me. I wonder if he feels the same way about me getting drafted.

I edge my way into the general's office, standing awkwardly near the wall as I watch the intimidating man shuffle papers around. He glances up when the door shuts behind me.

"Any reason you shouldn't be in this man's army, son?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm a cross dressing homosexual pacifist with a spot on my lung?" I reply, hoping he'll send me back for some x-rays so I didn't swallow all those cotton balls for nothing.

"As long as you don't have flat feet." I watch helplessly as the general signs his name and then stamps the paper loudly, the sound resonating in my ears. "And for future reference, the army doesn't give points for creativity, was it…" he pauses, glancing down to the papers, "Carrigan. Now as far as I can tell from these reports, you're healthy. And until I get the results of your blood tests back I'm putting you down as fit for the army."

I stand quietly as General Richards glances over the papers again.

"You're free to leave, Carrigan," he says, "Your clothes are in the medical ward at the front desk. Come back next Saturday at noon. I'll have more instructions for you then."

Fit for the army. Fit to be shipped thousands of miles away. Fit to hold a gun, to shoot it, to murder. I'm "fit" to kill and be killed, and I'm 21 fucking years old.

I can't expect Jude to wait at home for me. I can't expect him to keep his hands off of my sister. Hell, it's probably better he starts leaving me for her. At least then when I leave it won't be as bad for him… He'll be there for Lucy, and Lucy will be there for him, and I'll be in Vietnam.

Fuck, that works out too perfectly.

* * *

We hope you enjoyed! Review, please.

Hopefully our next update won't take as long. See y'all next time!


	5. Couple of My Cravings

Hey! I don't know if anybody still reads this story (it's been ...probably literally years since we've updated), but here's another chapter just in case. This is in no way brand new. We have a few more chapters left saved up from when we were still writing this story. Yes, it's been abandoned. But I can periodically post chapters until we run out of prewritten stuff. That is, if you guys still want me to. So, comment and let me know!

* * *

_Jude's POV_

Tap, tap, tap.

My fingers thump against the armrest of the couch. I stare out the window and admire the light fog that covers the sky. Rain droplets begin to cover the glass, and soon, the sound synchronizes with my gentle beating.

Biting my nail, I watch as Lucy carries a record into the next room to Prudence. They've been sharing music the past two days; Prudence was elated that Lucy thought to bring her record player along to New York, seeing as none of us could afford to purchase one for the apartment. Ever since discovering it in Lucy's bag, Prudence has been swimming in the sounds of Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis.

"Does she really like that stuff?" I ask Lucy as she sweeps past me. She shrugs with a quiet giggle.

"I think she's just listening to it because it's all I have. I'll have to pick up some more current stuff once I get a job," she tells me, stopping to push a piece of hair behind my ear. I give her a small smile, and she leans down to press our lips together. She makes a small "mmm" sound, and I rub at the back of her neck with my fingers.

After pulling away, she heads into the bedroom to present Prudence with a copy of Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys. I hear a delighted squeal and roll my eyes. Pru really must be desperate for music…

I lift my hand up to my mouth, running over it lightly with the tips of my fingers. Licking my lips, I taste the sweet sheen that Lucy left behind. As I push my hair back in front of my ear, I think of how differently Lucy kisses compared to her brother. Lucy is so sweet and gentle, but not in the way Max is. She's almost cautious, as if she doesn't want to give herself up completely. Max is the complete opposite. When he kisses me, I feel like I have all of him. There's nothing on his mind; nothing distracts him from what he's doing.

I don't blame Lucy for being a little out of it sometimes; after all, her last boyfriend died and now she's living away from home for the first time in her life. But after an entire night with Lucy, sometimes I find myself relieved at the feel of Max's body against mine.

Turning back to the window, Lucy's words hit me. When she gets a job?

I flip my body around to face the bedroom, my chest tightening. How can Lucy get a job here if she's just staying for the summer?

Maybe she just needs a temporary one until she goes back. Just to help out with rent…

As I assure myself that that must be the explanation, Max bursts through the front door, his hair scraggly and his fingers gripping his keys tightly. I stand up quickly, walking toward him. I'm not sure how to apologize for before, nor am I even sure I have much to apologize for, but I want to make it right between us.

"Hey," I say, stopping a few inches in front of him. He throws his keys on the table next to the door and grunts in response, making a bee-line for our room. Waiting a few seconds, I start to follow him, making sure Lucy is secure in Prudence's room before sneaking through the beads in our doorway. Max doesn't even look up when I enter. He sits at the edge of our bed, his fingers curling around the mattress and his eyes settled on the dirty floor in front of him.

I sneak up behind him on the bed, pressing my chest to his back. My legs border his and my arms slowly wrap around his middle, coming together at his stomach where I fold my hands together. His body tenses slightly when I settle against him. I'm sure he's sick of being touched for the day.

"How'd it go?" I ask, breathing in the scent of his hair. He shrugs with a sigh.

"Fuckin' sucked. Everyone probing and prodding me, I felt like a piece of meat," he groans, resting his hands on his thighs. He pauses. "I'm in," he whispers, and my heart sinks in my chest. He's in?

"I…" I mumble incoherently, trying to let the idea sink into my mind. However, instead of attempting to say something comforting, I decide to let silence take over for me.

Fuck, he's going. He's actually going to Vietnam.

"Are you gonna tell Lucy?" I ask, realizing as it's coming out of my mouth what a bloody stupid question that is. Of course he's going to tell Lucy.

"Yeah," he says, rubbing at his forehead, "I have to tell my parents, too." He takes a second think. "Jesus. My mom's gonna flip," he laughs breathlessly, his shoulders shaking as he claps one of his hands against the edge of his thigh.

Leaning forward into Max, I lightly kiss the back of his neck and make slow circles against his stomach with my hand, trying to comfort him. Max is unresponsive, and when the tips of my fingers drag under his t-shirt on accident, he abruptly breaks away from my touch.

"We shouldn't do this, man. This is so…fucked," he says, frustrated but quiet, aware that Lucy is around. I'm left on the bed by myself, my legs still positioned as if Max is sitting in between them.

"Do what?" I ask as Max paces back and forth before me.

"This!" he yells, motioning between us. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as I sincerely hope he doesn't mean what I think he does. "We shouldn't be doing this. You should be with Lucy. I'm leaving and…just…" he says, running his hands through his dirty blond hair. I stutter, unable to spit out a full sentence, when he seats himself next to me on the bed.

"I don't really…" I start, when he frantically pushes our lips together. Before I'm able to realize what the fuck he's doing, Max laughs.

"Should we stop? I mean…should we?" he asks me sincerely, leaving his hand to rest on the back of my neck.

"I…" I begin again, pondering what kind of crazy has created a niche in Max's mind this time. Our eyes connect, and he bites his lip before thrusting himself onto my lap, his thighs wrapping around my stomach. I laugh, my mind clouded.

"Fuck it," he exclaims, forcing our mouths back together. My hands find his back, pulling him closer to me. I fall back onto the bed crookedly, trying to find the pillow with my head while Max slips his tongue into my mouth.

Max leaves the room after what I assume must have been at least a half an hour of making out, and although some clothes were shed, we both decided it would be best not to fuck with his sister in the same apartment. I cross my arms underneath my head, staring up at the blank ceiling.

He's going to war. I can't imagine what the conversation between he and Lucy will be like. And his parents? His father didn't respond well to Max dropping out of college, I'm not sure if he'll be too fond about Max being drafted. Although, he could be the kind of person that sees honor in that sort of thing.

I sigh. Max should really tell his parents face to face. I'm not the person to make that decision, but I know that Max wouldn't hesitate to break the news over the phone to his mother, then ask her if she could mention something to his father as an afterthought.

Maybe I'll suggest that he go home…  


* * *

_Max's POV_

"You're serious?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow as I stare at Jude. The other man's smile falters, and he taps the two pieces of paper nervously against his fingers.

"I… I thought it would be nice…" he stutters, staring down at the tickets.

"To visit my _parents_? My _parents_? Did Thanksgiving dinner _not_ make a large enough impression on you?" I laugh, incredulous.

"Well, I just thought that you'd want to talk to them. You know… in person," he finishes, flinching slightly, his face bright red. I stare at Jude for another second or so, fucking amazed by him. I take the tickets from him and fold them into my wallet before sliding it back into my pocket.

"No, it's…" I pause, trying to find the right words, "it's… Thanks." I cringe at my pathetic attempt to properly thank Jude. He deserves more than that, at any rate…

I reach forward to link my arms around his neck, rubbing my fingers through his hair.

"Yeah?" Jude sighs, obviously relieved, "a…and you don't have to take me. The tickets are yours; do what you want with 'em."

"So it's you or Lucy?" I ask, and he shrugs. I give Jude an open smile, leaning into him as I tug him down into a kiss. Jude kisses me shyly, his lips pressing against mine softly as he squeezes me to him, "what're your plans for tonight?" I mumble, playing with Jude's ear as I wait for his answer.

"Luce and I are off to a protest they've got goin' down near Richard's in a few hours… wanna come?" he asks hopefully, pressing his face into the crook of my neck and inhaling deeply.

"Nah. I'm sick of fucking protests," I grumble, pulling away from Jude but not before placing another quick kiss to his mouth, "Thanks, though. For these, too," I say, tapping my back pocket.

"Yeah, no problem," he sighs, turning away as he runs tired fingers through his hair, "Hey, listen. How 'bout I sleep in your room tonight?" he asks, and I almost groan in relief. It's been for-fuckin'-ever since I've fucked Jude.

"Oh boy, a sleepover!" I exclaim, hearing Jude laugh as I open the door to the den, confident that Jude will make up a good excuse by tonight as to why he won't be sleeping with…

Lucy.

"Hey," I say, finding that the one secluded area in the flat is full of smoke, coming from where my sister is sitting on the raggedy chair with a book open on her knees.

"Hey, Max," she smiles, grinding out a cigarette in the ashtray.

"Whatcha readin'?" I ask, drawing out the 'e' on 'reading' as I shove my hands into my pockets, stepping over to stand behind her.

"Thomas More," she says, flipping the book closed to show me the cover, "it's alright. Cigarette? Chair? Chat?" she asks, giggling when my eyes go wide.

"Yes, sure, no," I reply, sitting down on the rocking chair and accepting a cigarette, "and I didn't know you smoked, little miss," I tease, grabbing the lighter from my pocket.

"You do, too," she points out, and I shrug, "and besides, you're not mom. Don't give me that."

"What are these?" I ask, furrowing my brow as I glare at the recently-lit cigarette, "Newport? Gross."

"Be quiet, they're cheap," she laughs, snatching the carton back from me.

"Cheap cigarettes for cheap women, I suppose…" I sigh, shaking my head sadly. I shoot her a grin when she snorts, rubbing my hand over the stubble that I should probably get rid of soon. Jude's not a fan, though lately I feel more and more rebellious when it comes to him.

"So, I've got these two tickets," I begin after a moment, managing to drag Lucy's attention away from her book.

"Yeah? Where do they go?" she asks, stretching her right leg out of the chair and rotating her ankle, grimacing when she hears a snap.

"Home," I reply, smirking when I see her lip twitch.

"Are we… going home?" she questions cautiously, lighting another cigarette.

"Well, it's a contest between you and Jude," I explain, only now realizing how weird that must sound. After all, why would I bring my roommate to my parents' house?

"Oh."

"Jude bought the tickets. That fucker's always thinkin', huh?" I chuckle nervously, watching as a smile lights her face.

"Yeah," she trails, picking at something on her jeans, "well, whoever you want to go with you, just let me know."

"Will do."

If I took Lucy back home with me, there's a slight chance that mom would be able to convince her to stay… Or dad would force her to. I can tell she's not thrilled about the idea of going home, but she will if I ask her to. I think at this point anyone would do anything for poor, drafted Max.

I enjoy Lucy's company, though. She's not as uptight as the rest of our family can be, and she's slowly starting to grow a personality since she's moved to the city. She's not the straight A student, the popular, pretty, perfect…

Well, at the very least my parents would be happy to see us.

"Hey, have fun at your protest," I say as I stand up to leave the room, deciding to take advantage of this rare moment when Lucy and Jude aren't tangled up in each other.

"Thanks, you too," she replies distractedly, having barely heard me as she turns a page in her book.

I can't help but smirk as I think of the implications.

"Don't worry, I will," I say to no one in particular, making my way to where I last saw Jude.

Later that night I lie in bed next to Jude, remembering how nice having cool sheets against bare skin feels. I pull the sheet up to my hips and lean against the backboard, grabbing the carton of cigarettes off of the nightstand. Jude had immediately come to my room once he and Lucy got home, telling me that my sister had practically passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

I light up and let my arm drape across my stomach, my gaze falling to Jude's sleeping form. His breath washes against my side as he breathes evenly, his arms crossed underneath his head in lieu of a pillow.

I should bring Lucy with me, but I'd rather think about this logically. The pros of bringing Jude with me are, well. For one, I fuck him on a semi-regular basis. And two, I'd have him alone, away from Lucy, for a week or so. All to myself.

Fuck it, I think, watching as Jude stirs. Sold to the man with the British accent.

"Hey," Jude mutters, lifting his head to look up at me, "how long 'ave I been asleep?"

"Maybe forty minutes," I reply, offering him a cigarette.

"Thanks," he says, scratching at his chest, "I didn't know you smoke Newport."

"I don't," I say, bringing the cigarette up to my lips and inhaling before I continue, "Lucy does."


End file.
